


from outside looking in

by matteo-shreibner (alimacbrux)



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexuality, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Internalized Homophobia, Introspection, Multi, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alimacbrux/pseuds/matteo-shreibner
Summary: An introspection into isolation, finding yourself and finding your people.Or essentially, a stream of consciousness about Arthur's life leading up to the events of the season 5 trailer.
Relationships: Arthur Broussard/Alexia Martineau, Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	from outside looking in

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ever Arthur fic! I hope you like it because it's mostly an introspective piece with very little plot or actions actually involved tbh.

For as long as he could remember, Arthur had felt like an outsider. When he was little, he used to play with his action figures alone on the playground, launching them off the swings or scrambling up trees and slides to pretend he was way up high in outer space, simply looking down at the rest of the world. He read comics and books and kept to himself for the most part. As he grew up, his classmates laughed at him for his 'toys' and 'picture books', on one occasion going so far as to flush one of his comics down a toilet. He knew there was something about him that generally kept others away from him, knew he didn't quite act or feel like the rest of them. 

Like an alien sent right from one of his stories.

When Arthur first met Basile, however, it was the first time he felt like he belonged.

They met when they were 10 years old, when Basile transferred to his school after moving to the area. Arthur remembered the day vividly. It was the first day back at school and his dad had dropped him off on his way to work early, so he was one of the only kids that had arrived yet. He had been sitting alone at his new desk, flicking through his Hawkeye comic, idly glancing at the other kids chatting at another table when the door to the classroom unceremoniously burst open. With a tiny, high pitch yelp, somebody stumbled into the room, nearly taking out another desk on their descent to the floor. Arthur put his comic down as he watched the newcomer, who had wild curly black hair, getting awkwardly to his feet. 

The now familiar bright grin immediately met Arthur from across the room. Dressed in an ill fitting Star Wars t-shirt and sporting a too-big orange backpack, the new boy immediately started walking over to Arthur, ignoring the jeers of the other classmates. He stopped in front of Arthur's desk and held out a marker-covered hand, grinning. "Hi! I'm Basile! But you can call me Baz! I like your comic, too. Can I sit here?" the boy babbled away, already sitting down in the seat opposite Arthur. 

Arthur had nodded, his own wide grin melting over his face. "Thanks! I like your shirt!" he exclaimed, pointing at the other boy's t-shirt. 

And from then on, Arthur had one other person in his life to keep him company. 

For a while, Arthur tried to ignore most of the other people around him. He had Baz, so why should he care about everyone else? Why should he worry about the rest when he was playing video games or watching movies or discussing comic books with his best friend? It was easy to brush away the comments about his glasses or his comics if he just focused on the person that actually liked him. Baz was virtually the only person he cared about and he cared enough for the rest of the planet. 

But as he got older, the retorts became harder and harder to let go. The name calling turned from "Four eyes" to whatever slurs they could come up with, chasing him down with jeers and taunts he had no choice but to listen to. Flushing his comics or throwing his action figures turned into pushing him into the lockers or throwing things at him. 

It is almost impossible to ignore what stares you right in the face, after all. 

The question of "am I gay?" swirled around Arthur's mind for years. Whenever he caught himself looking at Baz for too long or caring a bit too much about a male character, the smallest of voices wondered somewhere in the back of his head whether it was true. Was he gay? Or did everyone else look at their friends the way Arthur did with Baz?

His browsing history was meticulously deleted, all of his secrets hidden away in the depths of the internet where no one else would ever find them. He never lingered long on websites, always sure to keep safer tabs open should someone come into his room without warning. He only ever searched up the burning question or scrolled through the endless chat rooms in the dead of night, looking for the answers in the depth of internet forums and 12 question quizzes. He felt like he was on some quest to find an answer that he was simply keeping from himself, never fully allowing himself the truth. 

Soon enough, Arthur couldn't handle it anymore. He hated himself when he caught himself daydreaming about his close friend, cursed himself for being a 'pervert'. He wasn't gay, surely. He'd had crushes on girls, after all. That meant he was straight, right?

Instead of acting on anything or letting himself even look at Baz, Arthur hid away. He spent his lunch periods in the school library, avoiding his friend in the halls in favour of keeping his nose tucked into the latest comic books. He took the long way to and from school to avoid walking the same way as Basile, ducking through side streets and crossing the street with abandon. Whenever Baz tried to talk to him, he shrugged him off, insisting he was busy with school work. His heart raced every time he saw the dark curls at the other end of the hall going to class, dread overflowing his body like a broken tap, shoving him into the corner of the hallway to avoid being seen by his friend.

It is agony to avoid the unavoidable magnetic pull of longing. 

"Arthur? Can we talk?" 

It had been in the middle of November, the wind unusually violent and unforgiving, rattling the windows of the small cafeteria. Arthur was sitting at one of the big circular tables by himself, poking half heartedly at his lunch, feeling light years away from the rest of the tables in the room. When he looked up to his name, his heart dropped as he made eye contact with a pair of familiar, sad brown eyes standing over him. Arthur had never seen Baz looking so forlorn, like a kicked puppy, clutching his green lunch bag with an iron grip. 

Before he could dismiss him, Baz dropped into the seat next to him, dropping his lunch onto the table and pulling out his food. "Baz, what are you—" he had started, glancing over at the sandwich in an attempt to avoid looking up into those _damn eyes._

"You're avoiding me," Basile blurted, "Why? I thought we were friends." Arthur glanced up finally, feeling his face flush at the look Baz was giving him. His eyebrows were knitted together and his bottom lip trembled in a frown like Arthur had never seen. 

"We are friends," he insisted, "And I'm not avoiding you. I've just been busy." 

"You won't even look at me anymore," Baz whined, taking a bite of his sandwich. "I know I'm not the smartest–everyone always reminds me–but I can tell you've been avoiding me for weeks. Just tell me _why_ and I'll leave you alone for good." 

But Arthur couldn't tell Basile why he had been avoiding him. He could barely admit to himself just why he felt the need to avoid the only person who had ever made him feel less alone. Deep down, he knew exactly why he forced himself to look away, forced himself to _stay_ away.

But despite this, Basile was his best friend. Neither of them had any other friends besides each other and in his pathetic self-isolation to avoid his own feelings which were staring right at him, Arthur had ultimately abandoned Baz. Baz, who had treated him with nothing but kindness since the day he literally fell right into Arthur's life. Baz, who liked the same things as him and let him talk about his silly fantasies and hobbies. Baz, who never ever judged him for anything at all. 

"I'm sorry," Arthur had said that day, swallowing back tears and forcing himself to look into those bright brown eyes he loved yet hurt him so much. "I-I can't explain why, but I'm sorry for avoiding you. You of all people don't deserve that."

No matter what, Arthur knew he couldn't just leave Basile just because he couldn't handle his own feelings. And so, he stopped avoiding Baz. He let them go back to normal, going over to each other's houses to play video games or rewatch movies, bickering about their favourite characters over lunch. He talked to Basile about the pretty girls in their school and let Basile plot out his futures with them, pretending he didn't think it was futile. He vowed to never let his emotions get the best of him. He prioritised their friendship over whether or not he did in fact have a crush on Baz. They had more important things to worry about like going to Lycée in a few months and going to a new school again. It did not matter if he thought Basile's eyes looked nice the way they seemed to glow in the sunlight or his desire to touch his hair or hug him. What mattered was that Baz was still his friend, despite him acting like a dick for weeks. 

When they went off to Lycée together, picking different classes from each other, of course their dynamic changed slightly. That had been expected. They no longer shared as many classes together or had time to just play video games together. Basile talked and talked and talked about the hot girls in the years above or the girls he was crushing on for weeks, hardly seeming to notice that Arthur never contributed more than advice and support. They both made friends in other classes, spending more time with them than each other. 

Slowly, as Arthur got more used to his new school and new people everywhere, he started to feel better about himself. Sure, he was still a bit of a nobody, mostly drifting from group to group, never quite a part of things. But he still had Basile and he liked his classes enough to get by. 

One night, buried beneath his bedsheets, Arthur stumbled upon an article which changed his entire life. Hunched over his laptop, scrolling through the billionth website that night, his jaw dropped. His heart hammered against his chest, blood rushing past his ears and a gasp falling from his lips as he read. 

_**Bisexuality** is the sexual or romantic attraction to both men and women or to two or more genders. _

With this newfound knowledge, Arthur continued to keep it private. He held the word deep inside his chest, locked away for safekeeping, only to be released in the darkest of nights. He whispered it to himself in the mirror, muffled by the rushing water of the sink, shrouded by the midnight stars twinkling above. He saw blue and purple and pink in everything, in every sunrise and sunset, in every rainbow and article, allowing himself only the smallest of glances. He kept the word safe from the rest of the world, blanketing it and boxing it away with the rest of his old yet sacred possessions. 

Even as he kept his secret to himself, he slowly, gradually learned to accept himself. He wasn't wrong for how he felt. He allowed himself to be closer, to reach out and touch, to tease and to smile. He no longer held back as much, caving into his near constant desire to touch. And Baz didn't seem to mind, so what was the harm?

In their second year of lycée, he and Basile befriended Lucas and Yann. He sat next to Lucas in a few of his classes, sharing jokes about their teachers or whispering about the homework. Yann was also a delight, teaching him to skateboard and always lending a helping hand. 

Arthur even befriended Alexia, whom he was forced to sit next to in Biology. She was a whirlwind with colourful hair and a friendly smile, making jokes left and right, sending his heart out the window. She was caring and energetic, far more intelligent than he was and _beautiful._

Of course, Arthur couldn't stay away from his sexuality forever. When his close friend Lucas came out as gay and suddenly he had a new pansexual friend from the year above, Eliott, it was unavoidable to think about. Alexia talked about being bi often as well, making his whole face flush violently every time. Sexuality and attraction were common topics of conversation in their friend group these days. 

When Alexia kissed him on the dance floor at Daphné's party, Arthur felt his entire body erupt at every nerve ending, a force so powerful he could taste static. It was the softest and the shortest of kisses, but it felt like belonging. Arthur could barely believe his luck, holding on tighter to her like he would lose her if he wasn't careful. For weeks afterwards, through flirting and teasing, Arthur fell harder and harder for her, finally getting the guts to kiss her again at Imane's party. And she had kissed him right back. 

With Alexia, Arthur no longer felt the need to hide or to repress. He could be open and honest with her, knowing she wouldn't judge him. He no longer felt constantly on edge because of the potential disaster of Baz finding out about his feelings or of the potential reaction of their friends, seeing how they had reacted to Lucas and Eliott. Alexia was special and she liked him for who he was and Arthur could only thank the universe every time he had the luck to even be in her presence. 

And now, as he was dancing the night away, preparing to count down to yet another year, yet another decade, Arthur looked around the crowded room. He looked at his gorgeous girlfriend Alexia as she danced with Daphné and Imane and he looked at Lucas and Eliott so captivated and entangled together. He looked at Yann and Emma jumping around as they talked and he turned to Baz as he moved closer. They danced together briefly, smiling, closer than his younger self would ever have imagined. 

He looked through the blinding white strobe lights and the flood of blue, grinning around at his friends. He thought back to his entire life and as he looked around the room, he felt a lot less like an outsider than before. 


End file.
